


The Way to a Man's Heart

by KitsJay



Category: Common Law
Genre: Gen, I spend way too much time on kinkmemes, baking of course, kinkmeme fill, stress baker, sweet like cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsJay/pseuds/KitsJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme prompt: Wes is a stress baker. A stress baker in the closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way to a Man's Heart

_Apple muffins_

"These are delicious," Travis raved through a mouthful of food. Several stray crumbs fell from his lips onto the front of his shirt and the stacks of unfinished reports littering his desk.

Wes stared at them distastefully, flicking away a few ostentatiously. "You had like, seven foster moms and none of them taught you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Travis, predictably, ignored him.

Wes watched in morbid fascination as his partner grinned a muffiny grin at him.

"Your wife is hot - "

"Don't call my wife hot," Wes said, shaking his head.

Travis continued over him, "And a lawyer, and an amazing cook? Man, either you were a wild man in college or she was drunk when she married you."

"That's not even remotely true," Wes said, returning to his work. He could feel his shoulders tensing as he read over what he had on the report so far. "But they are good muffins."

"Damn straight."

_Guinness Chocolate Cake_

"Oh my god," Travis said with a little moan. "This is amazing. Tell Alex that if she ever gets annoyed with your OCD ass, she is welcome to my fine one."

"Alex has better taste," Wes snorted. He picked at his own slice of heavenly, chocolate goodness, flinching a little as he thought over Travis's words. What would Travis say if he knew that Alex _had_ apparently gotten tired of him, tired of the job change, of the constant worrying... It was only a matter of time now.

"Pssh, everyone likes me. I'm like chocolate cake. Everyone likes chocolate cake."

"I don't like chocolate cake," Gregory chimed in as he walked past.

"You're a freak," Travis shouted after him. "Seriously, though, best cake ever."

"I'll tell Alex you liked it," Wes said calmly. He threw his own slice into the trash.

_Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies_

"Alex, Alex!" Travis shouted excitedly, running ahead. Wes felt his face freeze and he was torn between running after him to do damage control or slinking off while he still could.

Alex turned and smiled, surprised to see Travis standing there, waving like the lunatic that he so clearly was.

"Travis," she said with a polite smile. "What a nice surprise."

"Yeah, no kidding! Wes is trying to hide me from you or something," Travis joked, and Wes let his expression turn to an impassive mask at the look Alex gave him. Travis didn't notice, too busy still babbling. "I think he's just jealous I'm going to steal you and your mad baking skills away."

Oh, no. Oh, _no_. Wes stepped in, grabbing Travis's arm and attempting to drag him away.

"We have a case to work on, remember?" Wes gritted out, but it was too late - Alex had that puzzled look on her face and was already speaking.

"I don't bake," she said, tilting her head.

"Sure you do. Those pumpkin chocolate chip cookies? Mmm, mm! Don't ever tell Mary - "

"Third mother," Wes supplied.

"- that I said this, but those things were even better than her molasses cookies."

"Travis, I'm flattered at the praise, really, but I honestly am hopeless in the kitchen," Alex said with a small, confused smile and shrug. "Wes always did the cooking."

Aaaand there it was. His humiliation was complete.

Wes braced himself for the incredulous look Travis would be turning on him in three, two - yup, there it was.

"You?" Travis managed. "You bake?"

"Just because I know a kitchen is used for more than holding take-out containers - " Wes said stiffly, but Travis was shaking his head.

"No, no, this is too good," Travis said, a delighted smile spreading over his face. "Do you wear an apron?"

"No."

"C'mon, just a frilly thing with - "

"Travis, shut up."

Alex had an embarrassed, relieved look on her face. She mouthed 'sorry' at Wes before turning graciously to Travis.

"Travis, a pleasure, as always."

"Likewise," Travis said with his most charming smile. "I'll have to swing by sometime. It's been too long."

"Oh," Alex said, flustered. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Um, that would - "

"Not be a good idea. We're redecorating," Wes said smoothly, ignoring Alex's glare. "Travis, remember that thing we do? Our jobs?"

"Yeah, yeah. Later, Alex!"

_Strawberry Rhubarb Pie_

"Wes," Alex had her arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

"I'll be out in a minute," Wes said shortly, pulling out the pie. Not quite brown yet, needed a few more minutes.

Maybe it was a bit odd that the day he had signed his divorce papers, he found himself standing in his wife's - _ex-wife's_ \- kitchen, doing something as domestic as baking a pie, but the hotel didn't have even a hotplate, and he needed to relieve some stress.

Alex gave him a rueful smile, pulling out a chair and perching on it. "It smells delicious."

"I think I used too much brown sugar on the crust," Wes said.

"You always fretted too much. I'm sure it's fine."

"Mmm," Wes said noncommittally, wiping at a stray spray of flour on the counter. He frowned and ducked underneath the sink to bring up some Clorox wipes.

"Wes..." Alex paused, then soldiered on. "I know that this is hard for you. But it's not - we just don't work together. Not like we used to."

"I know."

The oven dinged and Wes pulled out the pie, letting it cool on the wire rack.

"Wes."

He looked up into Alex's eyes, so steady and sincere and regretful. "You can't keep doing this."

"I know," Wes said, and neither of them said anything until the pie had cooled enough for Wes to grab it and put it in the car.

Somehow, for reasons he doesn't want to look at too closely, he ended up at the trailer with the tacky lights that Travis called home, holding a pie in one hand and the other raised to knock, wondering what on earth he was doing there.

He had just turned to go when Travis opened the door. "Wes?"

"Travis."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Travis raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason you came or do you just like awkward silences?"

"No. I mean, there's a reason I came." Wes sighed, bringing the pie into view. "I bring pie."

"Pie is always welcome in my house," Travis said, opening the door wider and letting Wes past.

"This isn't a house," Wes protested, but it was half-hearted at best.

Travis seemed to notice, because he was unusually quiet as he fished out two forks and handed one over to Wes.

Two bites in, Wes spoke. "Alex and I divorced."

There was barely a reaction, just a minute pause in the descent of Travis's fork into the pie. "Okay."

"No jokes? I mean, she's free now, you can pursue her."

"Nah, I just wanted her for her mad baking skills."

"She doesn't - " And then it clicked, and Wes shut his mouth. Travis smiled that knowing half-smile at him, and took another disgustingly large bite of the pie. The implicit show of support was unexpected, but, Wes realized to his dismay, not entirely unwelcome, even from Travis, of all people.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly.

"No problem," Travis waved him off. "'s good pie."

"Glad you like. Also, wipe off your mouth, you look like a five-year-old who got into a jar of jam."

And just like that, it felt like things maybe, possibly, could go back to being normal.

Well, as normal as a perpetual man-child, serial-relationshipist and his OCD, secret stress baker partner could get, anyway.


End file.
